BCTheEntity

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The ZAX I mean, I don't necessarily mind either way. I was just wondering if he might not hide the fact that he's a priest for the time being, and all. So... I guess do the retcon, and I'll modify my post accordingly afterward.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The ZAX Er... I mean, feel free if you like. I can modify Sett's response in kind, if it's needed and all, so.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The Fated Fallen I know, right? I mean, the cloth he's wearing is reasonably high quality and all, but it's literally camo digs. And yes, pyjama knight's armour. Proof against pretty much the same things as regular knight's armour, plus knives, since you can't really have plate covering joints very well. Just add thick leather, and you might survive a mace strike!

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

As he ate, Settionne glanced round the room, taking a glance at everyone's interpersonal relationships as first impressions. He was sure at least one of the party by now suspected he was perhaps not who he said he was, though most seemed preoccupied in other ways; in particular, the oversized being that could only be one of those Skayleigh creatures from the Isles... what were those called? Oh, he'd just keep referring to them as the Isles. Anyway, said Skayleigh was apparently engrossed with threatening another man for... did he say he was a mage earlier? Well, wasn't that something. And another young woman- a Vrettonian herself, going by her accent- had gotten herself involved in that conversation too, so they were clearly occupied.

For the time being, though, he'd found himself distracted by yet another individual, this one clearly a guardsman of some sort, and rather lacking in anything of significant worth. Was this perhaps a local guard? Surely not, as he in turn seemed to possess an accent unlike that of any human living in the area that he'd heard. Not Vrettonian, anyway. 'Hello,' the man stated, extending his hand to shake, which Sett did with gusto as he continued to talk. 'Harvan Diehl. Sounds like you are all in on this adventure. I'll be honest, I've travelled a lot but I haven't been part of an undertaking like this before. You seem like the... friendliest one here.'

'Ahahaaa, well, you're not wrong, my man!' the priest responded, a cheeky grin on his face as he clapped his hands together, and in turn idly wondered whether it was really that obvious he was a priest as the man glanced over toward the giant and the... previously blood-soaked man. When asked 'What do you make of this little collection of souls?', Sett's smile faded ever so slightly, and he responded with 'I'll tell you this for starters, I've travelled plenty in my time-' Accurate, if the one boat journey South counted as "plenty", but he could fluff it up with extra details if needed. '-and I know a couple of antagonistic souls when I see them. If you're concerned about who's a problem and who isn't, well, just stick by me and I'll be sure to keep you in good health, O humble warrior.' He laid a hand on the man's shoulder, friendly warmth entering the smile on his face, and seriously considered rifling through the man's pocket with his free hand to see if there was anything of any reasonable worth to him. But, with the Elven Princess' keen gaze (amongst others) crossing the room at various points in time, he ultimately decided against it. That was a recipe for disaster.

Speaking of disastrous Princesses, the queen was speaking again, this time discussing the merits of unwinding the elven silk bags to, supposedly, impede arrow fire or even deflect blades. Surely not! Such a miraculous material, light as silk yet strong as steel, would require- oh, wait, Elves. No, magically-enchanted silk made sense, on second thought. In which case, forget nabbing any extra pots; just take everyone's newly-gifted silk bags at the earliest opportunity, and figure out how to weave them into an outfit of near-impenetrable silken armour. He knew how effective armour plate was; knights were common enough in many armies for a reason, after all. Just remove the weak spots that flexibility required, and... well, what could stop a man so protected? Dragons and demons, maybe... and mages of great power... ahem... well, he'd cross those bridges when he came to them, once he'd gotten himself set up accordingly.

@POOHEAD189@The ZAX@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@Lacks

Warhammer 40K: Beyond the Law - A Mercenary Adventure [MATURE] (Open for business, apply within.)

Shit, I thought I'd posted in the OOC here. Well, @Jbcool, I'm half-waiting to see what happens next... would you mind awfully if Harvin was the first person to encounter the pirate captain as he tries to blow the facility to kingdom come? It seems like he'll be disconnected from everyone else otherwise.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The ZAX Well, I need to post within three days anyway or I'll be kicked from the game, but I've had a good streak of posting in other games going, so that bodes well. I'll try and get something out for today; did you want Sett to interact with Harvan specifically, or just that he does something other than eating food?

EDIT: No, wait, you definitely do. I'll take that into account.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Alessa Heather: PRT Headquarters

Alessa, in a word, was excited. A new hero was always welcome, in her mind, especially considering the nature of parahumans in general, and to have them introduced to the very same group as herself? Well, that was nothing if not helpful to her own desire to help people. Quickly, she considered the other Wards as she saw them, from what little experience she'd had with them so far - Sonar was, of course, a well-known and frankly exceptional hero considering what his power entailed, in particular its inability to turn off; Martyr was nice enough when it came down to it, though he at times seemed to be caught up in his own world, and if what she'd heard was right had changed personalities drastically and temporarily retired as a cape after a certain incident a year ago; Epsilon already appeared to be the sort of person Alessa liked, friendly and accommodating even in spite of her obviously-troubled past; and Margrave... well, he seemed nice enough, even if he tried too hard to sound cool a lot of the time.

And so the newcomer was introduced into the room. In costume, of course, but regardless, she was remarkably attractive... possibly moreso for the way the costume was built. Better than Alessa's own figure, regardless. Still, Alessa made a point to herself to not ogle or brood, and kept her vision at face level- mask level, more accurately in the newcomer's case- as the PRT director introduced Tulpa, made sure Inkscape and Sonar would keep her happy, then took his leave along with the other Protectorate members, leaving just the Wards in the meeting room. Sonar introduced himself first as Collin, followed shortly by Tulpa naming herself as Evelyn, and then Martyr citing his own name and giving a quick rundown of himself and the rest of the team. As Evelyn cited again how nice it was to meet everyone, Alessa decided now would be a good time to get up and make her own introductions... though she was unfortunately interrupted by Margrave's choice to make his first impression. It was... needlessly extravagant, to say the least. Clearing her throat, she stepped round the "tragic hero" and approached the new cape to hopefully make her feel a bit more welcome.

'Margrave means well. Uh, it's great to have you with us, Evelyn!' she said with a smile, extending her hand for a handshake- which, she noted, Dean either forgot to offer or deliberately failed to do so. 'I'm Messiah, also called Alessa, feel free to shorten those if you want to. Speaking of, do you mind if I call you Eve for short in private, or should I stick with Evelyn? Tulpa in public, obviously, aheh...' She did want to do her best to follow the director's orders, and surely accommodating the new girl would include appropriate naming requests? Hence her questions on the topic. If she was lucky, she might even make a new friend in the process.

---

Raymond Haywood: Icehouse Hideout

Well, if this wasn't one of the nicer rooms he'd been in in a while... it actually wasn't, he'd been invited into high-rise penthouse suites before now. In gear, no less, as he was right now. It was fine, for a hideout, but dramatic effect doesn't work in one's own head. The kitchen was a nice touch, Raymond admitted to himself, and the proffered coffee was at least a gesture of pleasantry from a man who was, Raymond felt, anything but pleasant. The girl took a cup, anyway. The girl who was definitely a girl, unlike the androgynous creature who could easily be either gender.

'Thanks for offering,' the mercenary muttered as he sat, 'but I don't drink coffee. Makes me jittery.' As if that answered everything- which, for now, it seemed to, with no other topic to hand- he drew his rifle from his back, and began some last-minute inspection and configuration of the weapon. Whilst on the internal topic of "others", it seemed like Headhunter was by far the oldest individual in the room, though the Broker could well be anywhere from twenty to forty years old for how timeless his appearance was. The blonde pretty boy took a solid third place as a young adult: the girl and the boy-girl couldn't be older than their mid-teens. But who knew, when capes were involved? Plenty of Shifters to go around.

The Fate of Lucumbro

It didn't take too long for Akella and the Lady Snow to come across the marching guardsmen, and the imprisoned civilians they had with them. It seemed as though the other peasants in the vicinity were either doing their best to ignore the marching group, or unduly fascinated by it in a way that they'd likely regret later on; Snow herself seemed to be very uncomfortable with the situation, at least in the first moment of glancing at it, but then deliberately turned her horse away, putting on a cool facade as she began to ride off. Akella, by contrast, could not bring herself to just leave. These people... she tried to tell herself that, maybe they were all criminals, maybe they deserved this. But that was surely impossible; at least a third of the village's people were being herded like animals, to who knows what fate, and nobody was doing a thing about it! This could not, would not-!

'Akella, let's go.'

The Lady's voice in her ear made her jump a little, and she turned to her employer, who by now had erased any trace of upset from her features. The mercenary gritted her teeth, and tried to appeal to the noblewoman's better nature: 'This is barbaric. We can't just stand by, surely?'

'This is not our concern. It's not our job to be concerned.' Her voice was as cold as her features.

'Then whose is it?' Akella replied, anger starting to tint her voice. 'There's no way something like this is going to end well, and I can't in good conscience do nothing about it.' For a moment, the Lady seemed cowed, bowing her head and once more showing what seemed to be distress, only to raise her head again, herself angered... but not with the events unfolding before them.

'What do you think you'll accomplish? Hm?' the Lady asked. 'Judging by the numbers here, there are probably guards all over the village. Are you planning to fight all of them, Akella? Is that your plan?'

'If I have to.'

'You will die trying. You are not one of those heroes from legend. Maybe you think otherwise, but you are mortal. You are a mercenary. You would do well to remember that, and you would do well to remember that you've been hired to protect me, not anyone ELSE.'

In truth, and even as she glanced to the crowd and back, Akella knew the noble was right. It wasn't her job to fight in larger battles; it wasn't her job to try and protect the larger mass of life, but those who could pay her. Such was the lot of a mercenary.

...and it was the job of the guards to protect said life. When they failed to do their jobs, who else could?

'Hide somewhere.'

'...pardon you?' Lady Snow asked, mildly incredulous.

'Find somewhere to hide, and stay there until I come back for you.' She turned her horse, and began following after the crowd, staying out of sight of the guards as she moved.

'...are you joking? Akella... Akella!'

Akella had stopped listening. If the Lady would not let her take this detour, she would have to go against orders for once. It seemed like the crowd was moving toward the town center, as a general rule; if whatever was happening would take place there, then she'd be there too, no matter what.

Into The Dark: Mercenaries (Heroes of Fame and Fortune)

I have finally posted as Nuva. Sorry about the delays on that front, @POOHEAD189.

Into The Dark: Mercenaries (Heroes of Fame and Fortune)

Well, Nuva thought to himself, that was about as successful as I imagined it being, albeit in a different fashion to what I expected. He had thought his hip was sufficiently armoured, too, given that his entire body was coated in chainmail, leather, and two layers of cloth (for what it was worth); clearly, that wasn't the case after all. Perhaps time for an upgrade to the armour, then, if he acquired the funds for it, but certainly a repair job on the damaged sections at the very least. He certainly didn't want to be expulsed by the other mercenaries for uncontrollable starting conditions.

For now, though, his leader was asking for his condition, having issued instructions on how to proceed. 'Injured,' Nuva responded, 'but it is only a flesh wound to the hip. I'll be fine. Thank you for inquiring, sir.' In his time under the dark elves, they had not once asked whether or not he was injured, and he'd quickly learned that they certainly wouldn't clean his wounds for him. The damage was on the side of his intact hand. He could deal with cleansing and bandaging it when the party returned from this expedition. For now, there was only the need to progress. He moved toward the next door- with a very slight limp, he noticed, from the injury- and, looking back to see if the others would follow, began edging it open to glance out at whatever lay beyond the threshold.

@POOHEAD189@Austronaut